


Luck of the Next Year

by Lumiel_lightbringer



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angels, Angst, Backstory, Banshee Powers, Banshees, Christianity, Creatures, Dark Elves, Deities, Demons, Dragons, Druids, Elves, F/M, Fake Names, Gen, Ghosts, Ghouls, Gods, Griffins, Hidden Magic, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Magic, Monster Jaskier | Dandelion, Monsters, Multiple names, Mystical Creatures, Mythology - Freeform, Mythology References, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Nymphs & Dryads, Old Gods, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pagan Gods, Post-Conjunction of the Spheres, Pre-Conjunction of the Spheres, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Religion, Time Skips, Time Travel, Undead, Vampires, Wood Elves, Wraith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:06:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23494303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumiel_lightbringer/pseuds/Lumiel_lightbringer
Summary: A young boy from the year 103, before the Conjunction of the Spheres, is gifted a ring with specific instructions for when there is danger. That boy has many names throughout the years, but in this one, he goes by Jaskier the Bard.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion & Original Character(s), Jaskier | Dandelion & Original Female Character(s), Jaskier | Dandelion & Original Male Character(s), Jaskier | Dandelion/Original Character(s), Jaskier | Dandelion/Original Female Character(s), Jaskier | Dandelion/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

~  
Chapter 1

Iaguroth  
Year 103

  
"Jehoram! Get back here this instant!"

A woman's voice calls, hands on her hips. Of course, the language she is speaking is no where near English, nor Elder speak. This language is far older. Far more ancient.

Jehoram giggles, then sprints further out into the sand.

The sun is beating down brightly, the ground warm and soft under his bare feet. He laughs and spins, as he plays out in the open yard.

His foot catches on a rock, and he lets out a cry of surprise before falling forward.

A strong arm catches him around the middle, and he looks up, expecting to see his father's stoic face. Instead, he finds himself looking at a very warm, very kind man that looks to be the same age as his oldest brother.

"Hello!" He calls, smiling.

The man helps him to his feet and smiles back.

"You must be careful, little one." He hums, a hand on the Jehoram's cheek.

"I will be!" He chirps. His blue eyes are transfixed with the man's own. "What's you name?" He asks, head cocking to one side with curiosity.

"Michael. And your name is Jehoram."

"It is." He nods a few times, "How'd you know that?"

"I heard your mother." He says, and Jehoram blushes - he can't be acting stupid in front of the tall, pretty man!

Michael takes his hand and straightens to his full height. "Come, little one. I have a gift for you."

Jehoram glances back at his house, "Will my mother be mad?"

"Of course not. My gift will keep you safe."

"Oh." He smiles again, "Ok."

Michael leads Jehoram down the hill he had almost tumbled down, and carefully kneels down in front of a large boulder.

Michael points up at the top of the steep slope, "This is where you would have feel, had I not caught you."

He places his hand on the rock then, and Jehoram's eyes widen.

Michael takes his hand and places a metal band in the boy's palm.

The material is hard and cool, glinting faintly in the sunlight.

"Whenever there is danger, little one," He explains, "Turn this band around your finger three times and repeat this."

He leans in, and murmurs something in a language Jehoram doesn't recognize - a language older than the old one he himself speaks.

"Ok." he nods.

"Do you understand?" Michael asks, pulling his own hand away.

"I do." Jehoram nods again, and then slips the ring on his finger.

Michael smiles softly at him and pats his shoulder. "You'll do wonderful things, little one."

He's standing up again, and then walking away from the village.

Jehoram stands, alone again, at the edge of town.

His eyebrows furrow - the man has no food or water, and there isn't any other civilisation for miles.

"Jehoram!"

The boy looks up and sees his mother running down after him.

"Time to go inside." She says, sternly, and picks him up.

He grabs her shirt with one hand, the other pointing out at the sunset, where Michael walks.

Well, walked.

Jehoram sees nothing but sand for miles, and his mother just smiles and says, "Yes, very pretty sunset. Let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

~  
Chapter 2

Iaguroth  
Year 107

There's a sickening crack followed by a bloodcurdling scream, and Jehoram can't breathe.

His mother's body lies motionless in front of him, back twisted and bent in unnatural directions.

"No!" He shrieks, and the men go flying backwards.

The stone walls of the house crack and crumble underneath the pressure and Jehoram's hyperventilating.

He scrambles backwards, spinning around as soon as he gets one foot planted on the slippery ground.

Barefoot running through the sands, Jehoram sprints to the fence of the backyard he played in for years.

He pushes himself over it and as his eyes spot a large boulder at the bottom of the steep hill he remembers the pretty man with the bright blue eyes.

Jehoram can hear his voice in his head and he remembers how his father built the fence to stop him from falling.

He remembers how his mother saw the ring and asked him where he found it, and then told him he was so imaginative when he told her about the angelic man he met.

Jehoram's eyes shut on the red tears in his eyes.

His fingers grab the ring and he breathes out the words he thought he would've forgotten by now - but they, they're practically ingraved in his mind. He hears them as he sleeps, gasps them when he's in pain, and screams them when he's afraid.

His body starts to quiver and he spins the metal band once, twice, and he's shaking like an invisible earthquake, thrice, and then the wind is knocked out of him.

\-----

Oggenet  
Year 111

Jehoram screams, and he finds the name leaving his lips isn't his mothers, but Michael's.

He lands on one foot, a loud crack and burst of pain telling him he must've fell from somewhere high up.

The boy collapses backwards, eyes blinking away tears and blood until he can fully see where he is.

A woman is standing in front of him, a strong hand on his bicep, holding him up.

"Breathe, dear, breathe." She says, but he doesn't understand the language she's speaking.

But then she's gesturing to herself, a hand moving up and down as she breathes, and he mirrors it.

In a minute he's breathing steady again, and glancing at the town.

It's not his, that's for sure.

"Where- where am-" He gets that much out before he can't breathe again. he dips his head down and takes another shaky inhale.

He realises a bit late that if he can't understand her, she probably won't understand him.

When he looks back up there are more people around and they're all together to each, the woman's eyebrows furrowed, until an older man approaches.

"Can you understand me, boy?" He asks, and Jehoram could collapse because, "Yes, yes - oh thanks the Gods, yes, I can."

He's still trembling, he notes, and tries to clench his muscles to stop the involuntary movement.

"What's your name?" He asks, and Jehoram barely notices the woman wrapping his injured foot.

"J-" He pauses. He doesn't know these people, and they don't know him.

He quickly takes in his surroundings again - dirt there's dirt here, there wasn't dirt where he lived. There ground is wet and alive with deep green grasses, grey clouds covering the sky. He's definitely not anywhere near his home.

"Jinor." He finally decides, and the man nods.

"Where are you from, Jinor?"

And he thinks, contemplates the answer to that.

"Where am I?" he asks, instead, and the man furrows his eyebrows.

"Gliviatuary." He answers, "Oggenet."

Jinor's heart drops, and he knows he was expecting it, but the small ounce of hope in him had prayed that maybe his realm had just magically changed appearance.

"Now I'll ask you once more, Jinor, where are you from?" His tone is stern this time, and Jinor sighs.

He doesn't know these people, he doesn't know this realm. All he knows is that this is the world of the Sanguine, and he doesn't think they'll take too kindly to a Zeshaese in their presence.

"Leyolyn," He answers, and the crowd of people all look confused.

"How?" He asks, "Don't lie to me, boy."

"I'm not!" Jinor's hands come up in a surrender, "I-I-"

"Are ya magick?!" Calls someone, and the old man glances back at the crowd before looking at Jinor and translating. "Do you have magic?"

"I don't - I don't know." He answers, because honestly, he doesn't think he has magic. He has the Gift of his people, true, but that isn't magic.

"What tribe?" He asks, and Jinor falters.

So, he lies, "Driukin." He answers randomly, because he doesn't know any tribes! Luckily this satisfies the man because he nods, albeit slowly.

"A druid." He murmurs and Jinor hopes they won't make him display his 'powers'.

"'Suppose it makes sense." The woman says, and he nods and they both let go of the young boy.

"You got parents?"

"Uh, no, no sir. They died." He replies, vaguely, and he nods.

"You can stay with me until you learn our language." He sticks his hand out, "Severn." He introduces himself, and Jinor smiles weakly.

\-----

Oggenet  
Year 121

Jinor was studying in his room when it happens.

Nicolai, his best friend, stands up and bears his teeth, grabbing the older boy and pushing him behind him.

"What's happening?" Jinor asks, pulling his arm free and grabbing the only weapon in the room - a blade he had made under the town blacksmith's teachings.

It's a small thing, too thin, but as sharp as Nicolai's claws.

"Invasion." He answers, "Out the window, I know the directions to the safehouse."

Jinor nods and checks for people before jumping out the opening in the stone.

Nicolai follows, a hand at Jinor's back protectively.

They race from the edge of the cave opening into the trees. Nicolai has an arm around Jinor's form and with his speed they make it in half the time.

The decrepid well is barely visible, with rotting boards covering the rocky hole.

The pieces of wood and tossed aside haphazardly, Jinor only pausing to hide them under leaves ("What if they see it and start looking around?" "Good point.").

Jinor returns and grabs Nicolai's forearm, the younger boy crouching over the well.

"Quickly!" He hisses, noises from around them signaling the advancing of the higher's.

Nicolai pulls him up, an arm around his waist, and then, with one deep breath, leaps.

If it weren't for the imenient fear of sudden death, Jinor would've screamed.

But his friend is holding him close, his breathing steady despite knowing the risks of this whole endeavour, and Jinor finds himself as relaxed as one could be in such a scenario.

There's a stinging pain and a burning in Jinor's sinuses as they hit the water.

Nicolai's arm drops from his waist and Jinor kicks his feet rapidly, his arms reaching up for the surface.

He's never swam before, but Nicolai told him it was just kicking and waving and a lot of belief, but that wasn't working, and Jinor can't seem to find his friend.

His eyes snap shut whenever he tries to crack them open in the deep water.

Finally, there's a hand grabbing his, and he's being pulled onto a rock.

He blinks rapidly, gasping, and looking up.

It isn't Nicolai.

With a sharp scream, Jinor stumbles backwards and looks behind him in time to see the too pale - even for him - form of his best friend, of his boyfriend.

"Nicolai!" He screams, and is in the water again.

His finger bleeds as he spins the ring painfully around the swollen flesh, gasping out words with the little air left in his lungs into the water.

His chest feels like it's about to explode, the pressure building, and he's spinning the band twice, thrice, and suddenly his ribcage snaps.


End file.
